Dancing at Lughnasa Page #4

You're dreamin'.

Come. We'll go for our walk now.

What were you doing

with the wooden sticks, Uncle Jack?

- Anybody want more tea?

- I'm your man.

I was talking to Obi...

the Great Goddess of the Earth.

Is she now?

At this time of year...

harvesttime in Africa...

we celebrate the festival

of the New Yam...

and the festival

of the Sweet Casava.

They're both dedicated to Obi,

the Great Goddess of the Earth.

Is there a Saint Obi?

If there is,

she's not in my prayer book.

How do you celebrate it?

Well, we cut...

cut and anoint...

the new yam

and the new casava.

And then we pass the bowl

around the table...

and each takes one.

We light fires

and we paint our faces.

And then we sing

and drink palm wine.

And we dance, and we dance,

and we dance.

Men, women and children,

and even lepers with limbs missing.

For days on end, dancing.

You lose all sense of time.

A clatter of lepers

doing the Military Two-Step.

- God forgive you.

- They have a great capacity...

for fun and laughing.

You'd love them.

You must come back with me.

I don't think I'd be too keen

on the yams.

Think I'd miss the old spud.

These festivals, they're not

Christian ceremonies, are they?

The Ryangans are faithful

to their own religion.

Will you say Mass soon?

In the house, maybe?

I will, yes.

Monday, maybe.

- Shall I put the wireless on?

- Marconi's in one of his moods.

You might have a look at the aerial

one of these days.

Bit of music

would do us all nicely.

No. We must all be worn out.

Good night.

Good night, all.

Can I stay with Daddy

in the barn?

Please, Mum, I want to.

Tonight, we will all sleep

in our own beds.

And that is final.

I'll see you in the morning.

Come on.

I'll put you to your bed.

I'll be in to read to you

in five minutes.

No. He'll go straight to sleep tonight.

And that too is final.

Gypsy, play your violin

The moon is high above

I'll fly to you

on silver wings

The serenade I love

What's the matter?

Do you ever want to go away?

Why?

Just wanted away?

Danny Bradley's asked me

to go away.

To America.

Danny Bradley is no good for you.

He wants to take me to a picnic,

out at Lough Anna. Look...

what he gave me.

I haven't worn it yet.

I'm keeping it for when we go

out on the boat.

You're not going.

Promise me you're not.

Do you hear me?

I hear ya.

I love you. I love you

more than chocolate biscuits.

I love you too.

If you ever do go away,

you'll take me with you, won't you?

I promise.

But it's to be our secret.

Promise?

That lovely summer

I thought would never end.

We laughed and played

to our heart's content.

And I was king of the castle,

surrounded by all who loved me.

Come on, then. Catch.

Jesus, look at me.

Look at the cut of me.

I thought my hair was lovely.

It's like a whin bush.

- You were lovely.

- God forgive you for mocking.

- Who's that?

- Curly McDaid, God rest him.

Curly? He hasn't a hair

on his head.

Bald at 17.

That's why we called him Curly.

Your sister could tell you

a thing or two about him.

- Tell all.

- My lips are sealed.

Mine are not. He had a few

wild notions about our Kate.

I had no more interest in Curly McDaid

than the man in the moon.

- He was fair mad about her.

- If we're talking about wild notions...

What about him?

Brian McGuinness.

- He's gorgeous.

- Your sister thought so too.

He was a bit like Gerry.

The loveliest dancer.

Do you mind the time

you were robbed?

- That dance competition?

- You were there.

I do remember that night.

They had a waltz competition.

I was looking down

at Curly McDaid's bald head.

But Maggie and Brian

were so beautiful.

Of course, they gave the cup

to the two old ones.

You should have won,

you and Brian.

- What happened to him?

- Brian went to Australia.

He wrote. I answered.

Australia's far away.

The way things go.

So that's that.

Will somebody give us a song?

Rose Mundy, I call on you.

Down By The Salley Gardens. "

Down by the Salley Gardens

My love and I did meet

She passed the Salley Gardens

With little snow-white feet

She bid me take love easy

As the leaves grow on a tree

But I being young and foolish

With her could not agree

In a field down by the river

My love and I did stand

And on my leaning shoulder

She laid her snow-white hand

She bid me take life easy

As the grass grows on the weir

But I was young and foolish

And now I'm full of tear

Good morning.

- Do you fancy a stroll by the river?

- I'll be right after you.

Where's your mammy?

She's not up yet.

She's wild tired.

Are you getting something

ready for school?

I'm not listenin'.

Gypsy, play your violin

The moon is high above

I'll fly to you

on silver wings

That serenade our love

Look what you've made me do.

You've ruined my letter.

Whoever you're writing to, he'd need

to be smart to read that scrawl.

Santa Claus.

In August?

At the feast of Lughnasa?

Nothing like gettin' him

before the rush.

- What are you asking for?

- A bell.

- A bell?

- For my bicycle.

Bicycle?

The one my daddy's buying me

in Kilkenny.

He promised me.

Well, if he promised you,

aren't you the lucky boy?

Away and write to Santa Claus

some other time. Go on.

A day like today, you should be running

about the fields like a young calf.

I'm not a calf.

I'm Michael, Michael Evans.

That's a fine hat.

Your own is very impressive as well.

We must do a swap

before I go back to Africa.

- You're going back?

- I may. Soon.

- God, I enjoyed that sleep.

- Aren't you the lucky one?

Where's Michael?

Outside, dreaming

he's on his new bicycle.

You never know.

Gerry might buy it.

It's a good thing Michael is blessed

with a great imagination.

- Is there water boiling for tea?

- There will be.

And soda bread.

If Agnes and Rose...

have luck with the blackberries,

we should have some beautiful jam.

- They're pickin' blackberries?

- They are.

Rose in her Sunday best

for some reason.

- Did you hear what I said to Maggie?

- I did.

She said, '"Well, you're a fine lady

to go out pickin' blackberries. "

And you said, "I'm some toff, Maggie.

I'm some toff. "

Well, stop bein' such a toff

and give me a hand.

All right.

Is that all the sympathy I get?

Now pull me out.

Look at me hands,

all scrabbed with briars.

What's that?

It's a church bell, I think.

You should know.

Yes, I should.

Now, what's our direction?

I want to know exactly where I'm going,

then Kate won't have to nag.

- Nag. That's not a word, is it?

- Nag? Yes. To keep on at somebody.

Oh, good. Nag.

My English is coming back.

- Do you speak Spanish?

- Spanish?

- For Spain.

- No. Not a word.

I can ride a motorbike.

That'll be enough to get me signed on.

I take it you don't approve.

Why?

I'm going to fight against Franco,

the Catholic Church and all that.

The Catholic Church.

- Are they for Franco?

- Yes.

They would be.

You're sharper than you seem.

Am I?

Those church bells?

Were they ringing tor a wedding?

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